


Every Color Illuminates

by melaniebirds



Category: Legion (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melaniebirds/pseuds/melaniebirds
Summary: All the parts we didn't see of Melanie and Oliver's relationship. From when they first met up until he got caught in the Astral Plane (though I may have to write a happy epilogue cuz that's a depressing way to end things lol) Featuring everyone's favorite duo: Kerry and Cary Loudermilk. (Probably a few other characters will make appearances as well.) This fic will have a little bit of everything: fluff, smut, angst, etc.





	Every Color Illuminates

**Author's Note:**

> Time and location are wonky in Legion so I made these things wonky in this fic as well. I haven't written fic in like 2 years so hopefully this isn't too rough :X

Melanie Greene would have never thought she would be at Beat Poetry Night at a jazz club on a Friday night. But here she was.

She was there for her best friend, Emily. She was debuting an original poem tonight. Personally, Melanie wasn't really into poetry. She enjoyed literature well enough, but poetry never spoke to her.

As she waited for her friend to come on (she was backstage “mentally preparing”), she found herself tuning out most of the poets and nursing her glass of wine. Until, she heard _him_.

 _“Elan that lifts me above the clouds_ _  
_ _into pure space, timeless, yea eternal…”_

His voice was electrifying, enchanting, and it was if she could feel the words coming to life around her. He had an accent, which she mentally placed as probably Australian, that only made his voice more pleasant to listen to.

She went closer to the stage to get a better look at him. He was handsome in a sort of non-traditional way. She took note of his strong jaw, full lips, green eyes and salt-and-pepper five o’clock shadow. 

He was fashionably dressed in a cream safari suit. The man had plenty of stage presence. He was confident, but his confidence never came off as arrogance. She stood there practically mesmerized as he finished the rest of the poem. She could have sworn a couple of times during his performance his eyes met hers, but it was probably all in her mind.

* * *

 In the middle of his performance, he saw _her._ The stunning blonde right near the front of the stage. She had beautiful, bright, blue eyes, blonde hair a little past her shoulders perfectly coiffed, and was wearing a corduroy dress cut mid thigh that showed off an incredible pair of legs. There was something about her that radiated warmth and kindness. His breath hitched at the sight of her standing there, seemingly taken in by the words he was reciting.

* * *

After the performances, the crowd and poets gathered in clusters drinking and chatting. Melanie was super proud of Emily. She might not be a lover of poetry, but she had to admire her friend’s bravado and creativity.

She was sitting at a table with her congratulating her, when Emily's boyfriend appeared.

“Eric!” Emily squealed. “I thought you were working tonight?”

“I was here the whole time. I wanted to surprise you.”

He glanced over at Melanie.

“Do you mind if I steal her away for a bit, Mel?”

“By all means, go ahead,” she replied with a smile.

Melanie sat at the table swirling her wine, feeling awkward being alone in a room full of people. About a minute later she heard a voice.

“Have you ever heard the story of the poor woodcutter and his wife?”

She looked up to find the man from earlier who recited the Ginsberg poem, holding a martini.

Well, there was an opening line she never heard before.

“I don't believe I have,” she replied with a grin.

He sat down across from her at the table and began to tell the tale. Again, she found herself enraptured by his words. She was engrossed by the story. When he finished, Melanie found herself almost tearing up.

“That was beautiful … heartbreaking, but beautiful.”

“It is a favorite story of mine.”

He took a sip of his martini.

“Oh, I should probably introduce myself. Oliver Bird, dedicated follower of fashion.”

He held out a hand for Melanie to shake.

“I’m Melanie Greene … uh, dedicated psychiatrist in training,” she said while shaking his hand.

“Ah, beauty and brains.”

Melanie found herself blushing; she looked down into her glass of wine.

“So, are you still in school, Melanie?”

“I'm in my last year of my residency.”

He looked at her in awe.

“That's amazing.”

Melanie took a sip of her wine.

“What do you do when you're not reciting Ginsberg?”

Oliver chuckled.

“I'm a scientist, of sorts.”

It must of been the alcohol running in her veins because she boldly replied: “Ah, so beauty and brains.”

He smiled in response, a wide grin that revealed the gap in between his two front teeth. Some women might have found that unattractive, but Melanie found it incredibly sexy.

“So, Melanie, are you a fan of beat poetry?

Melanie winced.

“No, unfortunately I’m not much of a fan of poetry. I'm here for my friend. She performed tonight.”

“No need to apologize. We can't all be simpatico with our interests.”

She smiled and took another sip of wine. Still feeling bold, she decided to take a crack at flirting with him.

“Well, I did find myself fascinated with the poem you recited. Your performance was just … incredible.”

“Really?” he replied, seeming honestly astonished.

“Maybe, if you read me more poetry, I could become more of a fan of the form.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in response.

“Well, that definitely could be arranged.”

Just then, Emily and her boyfriend walked over.

“Hey, Mel … oh, I’m sorry! Am I interrupting something?” Emily asked.

“No, not at all,” Oliver replied, “In fact, I should probably be going soon.”

He took a napkin from the holder on the table, grabbed a pen from his pocket, and quickly wrote down his number. He slid the napkin over to Melanie.

“Maybe we can set up that poetry reading sometime?”

He got up from the table.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Melanie,” he said with a wink and a smile. Then, he was gone.

Emily raised her eyes in excitement.

“Does Melanie Greene actually have a date?”

Melanie shrugged.

“I guess so,” she replied, still processing what just happened.

* * *

Melanie was nervous. It had been a while since she was on a date. 9 months, to be exact. She chose the restaurant for their dinner. It was a cozy, little Italian place that she loved. Nothing too fancy or too shabby, just in the middle.

She looked herself over in the mirror. She wore a knee-length,black, floral dress with a scoop neckline, showing just a hint of cleavage. She complemented the dress with a pair of modest black heels. The look was simple, but pretty, or at least she hoped.

* * *

She showed up at the restaurant a little early to calm her nerves and waited in the lobby for him. He arrived right on time. Punctual, she liked that.

When he saw her, he took her in for a moment. Her yellow hair was curled and she was made up a little bit more than the last time he saw her, but it didn't look over the top.

“Melanie, you look exquisite.”

She smiled at the compliment. No man had ever called her exquisite before.

“Why, thank you. You look great yourself.”

And he did. He was dressed in a casual black pattern button down paired with a gray jacket and trousers.

After they sat down and ordered, she decided to ask him more about his job.

“So what kind of scientist are you exactly?”

“Well, technically I am more of a teacher. I teach biology at a local college. But I do a lot of experimenting with my close friend in my free time.”

“When you're not reciting beat poetry at the jazz club?”

Oliver smiled.

“Exactly.”

She asked more specific questions about his studies in biology . He was interested in genetics, specifically genetic mutation. His eyes lit up as he talked about it, which she found endearing.

Oliver asked her about her residency. Now that it was her last year, she could work more with what specifically interested her. She chose to work with drug and alcohol addicted patients.

“Why that population?”

He propped his head on his hands, listening intently.

“Well, when you think about it, those are some of the most ignored people in society. They are outcasted and judged. Some of these people have absolutely no one and are helpless… It's just heartbreaking to me. Everyone deserves a chance to be healed no matter what.”

Oliver looked at her intensely .

“Melanie, you seem like a very compassionate person. I respect that immensely.”

They gazed at each other for a moment. The spell was broken by the arrival of their food. As they ate, they talked more in-depth about their interests of study.

Melanie found it super refreshing to go toe-to-toe with a man about academic subjects. Almost every other man she dated was either intimidated by her intelligence or brushed off her knowledge simply because she was a woman. With Oliver, it was the opposite. He didn't talk over her and seemed truly engaged in what she was saying.

They talked about their work for the entirety of the meal. There was never any lull in the conversation. They decided to skip dessert as they were both full.

As they walked out of the restaurant, Oliver asked if she needed a lift home. She wanted more time with him and she did take a taxi there, so she obliged.

* * *

“So what do you do in your free time, Melanie?”

It was a beautiful night and Oliver had the car windows down. The light breeze gently tousled her hair.

Melanie thought for a moment. It seemed like she hadn't had real free time in forever since her residency and since she began studying for her licensure exam.

“Well, before my residency, I liked to garden. But now I like listening to music. It's very therapeutic for me.”

“Wonderful! I'm a lover of the form as well.”

They bonded for the rest of the drive about their favorite artists and genres. They both loved jazz, rock, and classical music.

When they reached her apartment complex, he walked her to the door.

Melanie turned to him.

“Hey, do you want to come in? I am not trying to proposition you. I just… like talking to you.”

“I would love to.”

* * *

As Melanie unlocked her apartment door, Oliver began to feel a sharp pain in his head- a migraine. Melanie noticed him wincing as they walked in.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah just a small headache.”

He winced again.

Melanie furrowed her brows in concern.

“That doesn't seem like a _small_ headache. Why don't you lay down.”

“Are you sure you're not trying to proposition me?” Oliver responded with a cheeky grin.

Melanie rolled her eyes.

“Here let me show you the bedroom.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows.

“Just to lie down.”

* * *

They were lying in bed together fully clothed on top of the covers. She had offered him some Tylenol, but he asked her to just talk with him, it would be a distraction from the pain.

They laid on their sides, looking at each other as they spoke. They talked about how they don't date much.

“I think women find me too eccentric,” he mused.

“I would have thought women find you charming.”

Oliver shrugged.

“I just barely have the time to date anymore,” she said with a sigh. “Though you must be special since I made time for you,” she added with a playful smile.

* * *

It was 1:00 AM. They had been talking for hours. They talked about past date failures, what they wanted to be when they were younger, and their families.

Melanie had just got done telling him about her parents. She was an only child, raised by two strict, extremely conservative and extremely Catholic parents. Since, they were very old school they disapproved of her career-focused ambitions.

“Their biggest dream for me was to become a housewife,” she told Oliver, anger laced in her tone.

He tenderly brushed a stray blonde hair behind her ear.

“You’re very brave, you know that? It takes a lot to stand up to one’s parents.”

“Rebellious is more like it.”

He then shared about his parents. His mother was Māori and his father was white. His mother died when he was three years old.

“From what I heard she was a very sweet person … I don't know what she ever saw in my father.”

“I'm guessing he wasn't a sweetheart?” Melanie asked.

He laughed bitterly.

“No, far from it.”

He explained his father hardly ever showed affection and pushed him to work hard and be successful. He wanted him to take over the family business.

“But I was too preoccupied with science.”

Eventually, he left New Zealand to escape the pressures of his father.

“Well, I guess at the end, he did love me since he left me all his money when he died five years ago.”

Melanie didn't say anything for a few seconds. She just took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. He sighed at her touch.

“Oliver Bird, you’re a very brave man.” 

* * *

 Melanie woke up the next morning with her hand on Oliver’s stomach and her head on his chest. His one arm was wrapped around her.

They both fell asleep while talking last night. Melanie remembered there being a distance between them while chatting, so she figured they must have somehow wound up holding each other in the middle of the night.

She looked up at Oliver. He was still asleep and she thought he looked beautiful.

She tried untangling herself from his grasp without waking him up. She should probably make them breakfast, she thought.

As she got up from the bed, she heard Oliver stirring. He opened his eyes, looking confused for a second, then seemingly remembered where he was.

“Well, good morning sleepyhead,” Melanie greeted with a playful grin.

 Oliver smiled.

“Mmm, good morning, sunshine.”

He stretched his arms and got up from the bed.

“Do you want breakfast?” Melanie asked, “Admittedly I'm not a great cook, but I can do eggs.”

“Normally, I would say yes,” He said as he walked over to her. “But, I normally don't do sleepovers on first dates and my roommate is probably worried about me. He's more of an anxious type.”

“Okay, I understand.”

He stood right in front of her and cupped her cheek, his finger gently stroking her skin.

“I had the most wonderful time last night. Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

“Please do,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He pressed her lips against hers and kissed her softly and slowly. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead on hers.

“I know you are busy, but when can I see you again?”

“I'm actually off this Friday. So how about Thursday night?”

“Sounds splendid,” Oliver replied with a smile. “I'll call you later and we can figure out the details.”

Melanie walked him to the door. Before he left, he turned to her.

“You know I just realized. I never got to read you more poetry.”

Melanie laughed.

“Maybe next time, Mr. Ginsberg.”

Oliver kissed her on the cheek.

“Until next time, Melanie.”

* * *

When Oliver entered his apartment, he saw his roommate, Cary, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee reading a newspaper. His one leg was shaking nervously.

“There you are, Oliver. I was beginning to worry,” Cary said, sounding relieved. “It's not like you to be out all night.”

“It's not what it seems. We were up late talking and I feel asleep in her apartment.”

“Of course,” Cary replied with a smile.

Oliver kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, resting his hands behind his head.

“So how was it?” Cary asked.

“She's incredible. I don't know how to describe her. Words don't do her justice,” Oliver replied with a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Oliver Bird doesn't have the words? We’ll I’ll be,” Cary said with a chuckle.

Suddenly a pre-teen girl with long raven hair appeared in the living room/kitchen area.

“Oooo Oliver is in looooveeee,” she teased.

“Kerry!” Cary chastised.

Oliver laughed heartily. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

 

 


End file.
